


Marathon

by Skylark



Series: HSWC 2014 [10]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, Friendship/Love, Movie Night, Multi, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:30:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3259952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark/pseuds/Skylark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don't make me turn this movie around,” you warn them.</p><p>“Wizard alert!” Jane says to your right.</p><p>“Wizards!!!” Roxy squeals, quickly flipping over so she can see the screen again, and soon everyone's attention is fixed on Ian McKellen's flawless acting.</p><p><a href="http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/18819.html?thread=3604099#cmt3604099">Prompt:</a> <i>"Remember when Jake proposed a movie marathon and during the Lord of The Rings Dirk, Jane and Roxy fell asleep on him so he couldn't move and go to the bathroom?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Marathon

Watching all three _Lord of the Rings_ movies in a row is starting to become a yearly thing. You hesitate to call it a _tradition_ because that feels too weighty, and besides, you'd hardly call yourself traditional. But it's something that you've found yourself planning for, even relying on.

The idea of having something—someone—to look forward to, without your having to force the issue, is comforting and terrifying all at once.

Jane is already sitting on the couch, and she beams as you come to sit down next to her. Then Roxy's hands slide over your shoulders to grab you in a hug that's half a headlock, and you splutter as she laughs. With one arm still securely around your chest, Roxy's other hand fumbles for the remote control beside you and turns the TV on.

“Let's do thiiiiis,” she purrs beside your ear, and Jane grins at her over your head.

“Popcorn's ready!” Jake shouts from the kitchen, and soon he's striding through the saloon-style doors with a brightly-patterened bowl held carefully in both hands. The doors swing closed behind him with a thump, and he pauses. He always does; his innate sense for cinematic drama won't let him do otherwise. It was a large part of why he voted for this house specifically.

“This town ain't big enough for the two of us, pardner,” you tell him, like you always do every time he pulls this.

“Wrong genre,” Jane says.

“Shh,” Roxy agrees, already flopping over your lap to rest her head on Jane's thighs. “Only hobbits now.”

“Don't forget the dwarves,” Jane chimes in.

“Ooh, and the sexy elves. Can't forget those guys, amirite?”

“Does no one remember the race of men?” you say.

“I fancy the ents, myself!” Jake sets the bowl of popcorn down on the low coffee table, then turns around and grins at you. That's the only warning you get, but it's enough to make you all scramble to make room on the couch before he leaps onto it with a loud yell, causing the three of you to bounce like you're being tossed by an angry sea. When the dust settles, you're cuddled comfortably against Jake's left side, Jane's head is resting on Jake's right shoulder, and Roxy is sprawled across everyone's laps. She reaches out and snags the first bite of popcorn from the bowl as Jane starts the first DVD.

Jake makes you watch all of the previews, even though they're for movies that came out years ago, and gives you blow-by-blow summaries of each one. “That one was spectacular! The special effects were phenomenal,” or “Oh, I remember that one, that's the one with the terrific face heel turn when you least expect it! Remember that?”

Eventually you make it to the title screen, and Roxy gives a little cheer when you hit _play_.

Jake knows every word, of course. When the first movie came out, he was so excited that you took pity on him and gave him the rest of the series years before they were released, so he's had a lot of time to study them all. After years of nagging, the three of you have gotten him to keep his recitation to a low _sotto voce._

When Roxy wiggles her fingers into his stomach, his muttering turns into laughter. “Are you asking for a tickle war, miss Lalonde?” he asks, eyes gleaming. Then he reaches for her sides and she shrieks with laughter, squirming and flopping on your laps like a beached fish.

Jesus, you're not even through the opening scene yet. “Don't make me turn this movie around,” you warn them.

“Wizard alert!” Jane says to your right.

“Wizards!!!” Roxy squeals, quickly flipping over so she can see the screen again, and soon everyone's attention is fixed on Ian McKellen's flawless acting. Even you, with your finely discerning cinematic taste, have to give him props.

 

You manage to get through the whole first movie and most of the second before Jane's head thumps heavily onto Jake's shoulder. You don't blame her; the second book was your least favorite, too. You share a silent look with Jake, who nods, before you fumble for a throw pillow. When you locate one, Jake slips it under her cheek, and the two of you turn back to your movie without any further to-do.

Jake insists on watching all of the credits to every movie, too—“It's only right! These fine ladies and gents worked hard on this cinematic marvel!”—and that's what does Roxy in finally. You can feel her breathing slow and deepen, and when you look down her face has a peacefulness that only sleep provides. You watch Jake pull a tendril of her curling hair away from her mouth, smiling, and give her calf an affectionate pat.

It always ends up with you and Jake as the last ones standing whenever you have these movie marathons. “Do you want to stop?” you ask him.

“What kind of question is that?” he hisses at you with a grin. “Strider, I am not a betting man, but if I were I'd put down good money on the two of us making it to the end of the third movie. Are you with me?”

When he phrases it like that, you can't help but grin. “Hell yeah.”

Unfortunately, halfway through the third movie your eyelids are growing heavy. You refuse to own up to it, but after the third time your head falls forward only for you to jerk it back upright, Jake sighs and runs a callused hand down the back of your head, squeezing lightly at the nape of your neck. 

“Come on, Strider,” he says, but his voice is gentle, not goading at all. “Stay with me.”

You yawn and take off your shades, settling them on the edge of the couch so that they don't jab him when you snuggle closer. “I'm good,” you mumble. “I'm good.”

“Right you are,” he says. “Come on, look, your favorite character's on.”

“Aragorn?” you murmur with your eyes closed.

“That's the one. The hero himself.”

“I don't need to watch,” you say. “You do it for me. Just tell me what's going on.”

His hand continues to rub at the back of your neck while he summarizes each scene for you, adding in special effects where necessary. You drift to the sound of his voice, losing the meaning of his words and listening only to his cadence and tone.

Just before you truly doze off you say, “Hey, Jake.”

“Yes, Dirk?”

“I hope you don't have to go to the bathroom any time soon. I think you're trapped until the morning.”

There's a pause. 

“Oh, bother,” he mumbles. 

You chuckle at his expense before sleep finally claims you.


End file.
